


Wine Cellar

by HawkSong



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25421107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HawkSong/pseuds/HawkSong
Summary: Aymeric kept a very well stocked wine cellar.Haurchefant was going to drive Estinien to empty it.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Haurchefant Greystone, Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	Wine Cellar

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place somewhere before the arrival of Berylla Seahawk in Ishgard (chapter 15 of "Aren't You Cold")  
> Also mentioned is Nightbird Kevala, who appears in "A Song in Your Heart"

Aymeric kept a very well stocked wine cellar.

Haurchefant was going to drive Estinien to empty it.

“Here, have some more – uhp – well, that's the end of that bottle!”

Haurchefant's laugh had a dual effect on Estinien. It made him want to laugh with the silver knight...and it made him want to smack the shite out of him. He was always so gods-damned _cheerful_.

Aymeric wasn't much better, not tonight. Rosy cheeked and a little tipsy after their fourth bottle of wine for the night, the Lord Commander seemed completely unable to stop bloody _grinning_.

Estinien growled a little, and asked his friend and (technically) superior officer, “Are you going deal the cards or not?”

“Aye, aye, cease your grousing,” Aymeric laughed. “You're nearly as much of a tyrant as m'cat.”

But for all his grinning and very slightly slurred speech, the Lord Commander's hands were steady as he shuffled and dealt, five cards for each of them.

The three of them didn't get together as often as they once did, to play cards and drink too much. Not since Haurchefant's posting to the ass end of Coerthas. But some things were the same every time, even after all these years.

“This game would be better with four, you know,” Haurchefant observed, just as he did every time, after they had each set forth their usual ante bets.

“And just who would _you_ bring?” Estinien retorted – as he always did – rising to the silver knight's bait.

But this time Haurchefant had a serious answer.

“She would fit in at this table exceedingly well, this particular lady. I'd just _love_ to see her play cards against you two.”

“Oh?” Aymeric's eyebrows went up. He discarded three of his cards, and picked up three more from the deck. “I would almost have expected you to mention Francel, rather than another of your wandering adventurers.”

“Hah, no.” Haurchefant shook his head, smiling fondly. “Delightful as he is, Francel wouldn't survive an hour across the table from Estinien.”

“Oi.” Estinien glowered.

“One look like that from your fearsome visage,” Haurchefant snickered, “and the poor fellow would be fleeing as fast as his feet would take him.”

“Bugger yourself,” Estinien suggested, and replaced two of his cards before taking another drink of his wine.

Haurchefant just laughed again, tossed down four of his cards, and drew new ones. Glancing down at them, he tutted. “Oh, Lady Luck, you _are_ a bitch tonight, aren't you?”

 _I don't trust that statement one bit_. Estinien snorted quietly.

Aymeric touched two coins to the center of the table to join the small pile there. “So, who is this paragon?”

“She's pure fire,” Haurchefant sighed, striking an overblown, theatrical pose. “She scorches my heart even now!”

“If you've got a burning feeling,” Estinien mocked, “perhaps you need a doctor!”

Haurchefant spluttered at him, indignant. “Such a crass thing to imply of any lady!” He frowned. “I expected better of you, Estinien.”

“Why?” The dragoon took another drink. “I'm not a swiving nobleman, what should I care for some unknown woman's virtues – or lack thereof? It's clear she has no judgment, if she tumbled _you_.”

“Now now, Estinien,” Aymeric said mildly, “You know well that not all noblemen are cut of the same cloth.”

Estinien grumbled a little, then tossed his hair out of his eyes and matched Aymeric's bet. He watched Haurchefant from the corner of one eye as he spoke. “Besides, can you be sure you know where _else_ she's been?”

Haurchefant's brows drew down and Estinien's lips curved in a wolf-like grin, pleased to have nettled the silver knight.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I can be sure,” Haurchefant snapped. “Seeing as I was her first.” He plucked five coins off the neat stack in front of him, and slapped them down on the table. “I raise.”

Aymeric's lips pursed. “Are you deflowering virgins, now?” He matched Haurchefant's bet, and said, “Call.”

Estinien shook his head and folded, and then nodded without surprise when Haurchefant laid down his cards to show two aces, beating out Aymeric's pair of queens.

“If you could have seen her you wouldn't mock,” Haurchefant began.

“We need more wine if you're about to wax poetical,” Estinien grunted, and got up.

Haurchefant grinned at him, well used to the dragoon's ways. Even as Estinien left the room, Haurchefant resumed talking.

The dragoon made his way down to the cellar and grabbed two more bottles of wine from the rack set aside especially for their little get-togethers. Aymeric was very particular about his wine; but he also knew both his friends very well, and knew that if he didn't mark for them which bottles to let alone, he'd soon be missing the really _expensive_ stuff instead of the middle-of-the-road wines that the three of them could guzzle all night. Certainly Estinien couldn't tell the difference between fine wine and cheap rotgut.

He took his time returning. He knew what was going on at the table upstairs. Haurchefant always started telling some sort of pornographic story somewhere around the fourth bottle of wine. Aymeric – poor, lonely, frustrated Aymeric – would have his cock out by now, listening to Haurchefant's hypnotic voice as the silver knight played to his audience of one. Haurchefant would draw it out, lingering over details, his eyes gleaming as he enjoyed his friend's reactions. Most often, Haurchefant would also helpfully finish the Lord Commander off.

Estinien usually stepped out for these little stories – though he didn't go far, more often than not. He would stand quietly, out of sight, listening. He didn't object to any of it – he simply had no intention of letting Haurchefant _see_ how he reacted to these prurient tales. The man had no shame – he hardly needed encouragement.

Sometimes, on the loneliest nights for all of them, things progressed farther than mere stories and stroking. Aymeric needed such attentions more often – but then again he was, of the three of them, the least lucky in love. Or rather, he worked so damn much he might as well have taken vows...

But tonight...tonight, Estinien paused in the hall and set down the bottles of wine he'd brought up. This time when he leaned against the wall and listened, when he fished out the handkerchief in his pocket, when he opened his trousers... _this time_ , he paid little attention to Haurchefant's flowery descriptions of his lady-friend's assets. Instead he imagined amber eyes, and cool, dark skin...as Haurchefant poured erotic details out like champagne, Estinien's mind imagined Nightbird doing all those things the silver knight described so thoroughly.

The mere thought of her was enough to make his lust awaken. Haurchefant's voice faded out as Estinien's fantasy deepened. He took himself in his hand and half shut his eyes, stroking with a practiced flex of the wrist, a smooth motion of his thumb across the head of his cock. How sweetly Nightbird would sing for him as he touched her, tasted her, and finally took her. How he would mark her as his if he could.

Much faster than usual, he was panting, and curling his shoulders in as he leaned there. His hair covered his face as he bit his lip. When he came, spilling his seed into the handkerchief, he moaned her name under his breath.

He let himself drift for a minute, before dragging his attention back to reality and cleaning himself. He could hear Aymeric panting, now, and Haurchefant had stopped telling his story and was instead murmuring, encouraging the Lord Commander between kisses.

“Haurchefant,” Aymeric groaned. Estinien could just see the two of them in his mind, as the silver knight knelt before the Lord Commander and fondled him. Aymeric's face would be flushed, red with lust and a certain amount of embarrassment.

“There, there,” Haurchefant crooned. “It is ever a delight to do this for you...my dearest Aymeric.” Another groan, and Haurchefant chuckled, a dark sound, nothing like his cheerful, contagious laughter.

“Ah, are you close, dearest Aymeric? Shall I allow you to splash all over the table this time? Shall I take you in my mouth and lick you clean?”

“ _Haur...che...fant...!_ ”

A pleased sound – another loud groan from Aymeric – and Estinien knew that Haurchefant had indeed taken the Lord Commander's cock into his mouth, and Aymeric – overwrought and needy – was already coming.

The dragoon made sure his pants were closed and his handkerchief was stowed back in his pocket, and picked up the bottles of wine once more.

He didn't begrudge either of his friends their fun. He knew Aymeric would be embarrassed as hell if Estinien walked in before he regained his composure. So he waited a moment more, letting the two men straighten their clothes.

Then, he stepped back into the room.

After all, there were two more bottles of wine, and Aymeric just might need more help this night. Who knew?


End file.
